


Raindrops

by TheInfamousDoctorF



Category: Call of Duty Nazi Zombies
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Free Form Poetry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:49:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2420855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInfamousDoctorF/pseuds/TheInfamousDoctorF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's raining in the Kino, but someone hears more then just the sound of the rain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raindrops

A single droplet of rain slithered into a crack between two rotting boards beneath a leaden gray sky. It was followed swiftly by many more; all chasing and rolling like scattered beads and plunging into a vast space. They pooled in a patch of half-light in darkness. Finding lower ground and making wet teary trails amidst dust and scattered debris. Here finding a scrap of tattered cloth to dampen, bringing forth colors dulled by age. Some found splatters of congealing blood to bind with and drew the reds and browns across the shattered tiles of what once was a floor.  
Nothing moved except the rain, nor any sounds besides the roar of the storm outside the wreck of a once grand movie house. With deliberate slowness a shape intruded into the pale spotlight where the rain fell. Clean water cut trails across stretched black flesh, and dripped a rusty red as it fell from open fingers.  
Two hands now, cupping the water, green eyes closing as the coldness was splashed across them and wiped away. The eyes stayed closed a while, thoughts emerging from a turbulent sea as if summoned by the storm.  
The thoughts formed a name, almost as if it had been for a while forgotten.  
Richtofen.  
The man set his guns aside; he stretched like a cat; old joints creaking alarmingly. The alien noise set off a flurry of movement as a mouse fled from the intruder in its domain.  
It was in his nature to hear noise in silence, and the pattering of droplets could sound like the murmur of distant voices if he concentrated on them. But for now he focused solely on their rhythm. How long had it been since he’d heard music? How many parties had he grudgingly attended to further his social standing? The legacy of feminine hands coldly kissed while radiating false passion and desire?  
A tuneless hum escaped his thin lips, a melody as meandering as it was indescribable. But the more he concentrated the more it became distinct. He cast a glance from side to side and listened for the voices of his Allies, but they were distant enough to give him only human silence.  
He allowed himself a moment of freedom and stepped lightly across the floor, standing on the fronts of his wide boots so as not to click the metal of his heels and spoil the quiet dream that was coalescing around him. His hands drew upward like a hieroglyphic, taking the palms of a ghostly partner. The doctor traced delicate arabesques across the broken floor, nimbly avoiding wood and metal even with his green eyes tightly closed. He twirled, spinning his invisible partner in step to the music only in his mind. The memories of a martial tune melding seamlessly with the notes of the orchestra and the twang of the dance hall.  
And for a moment he was lost, swept up in the tides of the past, his drawn face breaking into a wry smile as bright the sun rising over the sea. He felt like he was flying, weightless, his feet as sure in their steps as a ballerina.  
Strong warm hands clasped his own, not breaking the flow, but moving with him like clouds before the wind. He dared not open his eyes and dispel what must be a hallucination. Gloved fingers moved in subtle ways around the hands that clasped them. No bulk of matching gloves, it could not be Nikolai. His pulse climbed, as thumbs ghosted over bare knuckles. No movement of fabric wraps under his hands, it could not be Takeo. Beads of sweat not encouraged by the pace of his dancing gathered above a trembling lip.  
Why, of all people, did that one have to catch him in such a moment of vulnerability? The shame would be too much, and the horrid Marine would never let the reclusive doctor live it down. Damn Dempsey and his irritatingly quiet shoes, sneaking up on the enraptured German the moment he let his shields slip loosely around him.  
He clenched his teeth in irritation. There was nothing else for it. Richtofen would have to open his eyes eventually and face a different kind of music; one far less welcome to his fairly refined tastes. The Doctor let his pace and stepping slow and sensed his partner deftly matching his movements. Small soft shoes avoiding the controlled stomp of his jackboots; as he wound to a halt and let his heels fall with a sharp double click.  
Green eyes slid reluctantly open, finding sky blue irises staring back at him.  
Just a few words and the spell that held them both was broken.  
“Vhy did you dance with me Dempsey?”  
His answer came in a voice like the dragging of drums across stone, but the words were the sweetest he could have hoped for.  
“Because I also hear the music in the storm.”


End file.
